


emerald

by unicornball



Series: Colors [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: DWRColorsChallenge, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, prayer kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 17:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8293262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornball/pseuds/unicornball
Summary: Castiel stills when he hears a softly prayed "Cas..."

  It's not unusual for Dean to pray to him, but the tone is different.

  A long breathy moan filters through his mind and he shifts in his seat, his body reacting without his permission to the sound. He knows that sound and he’s involuntarily inundated with images of what Dean is probably doing to make those sounds.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Today's color:_  
>  Emerald  
> em·er·ald (/ˈem(ə)rəld/)
> 
> a shade of clear, deep green. It is light and bright, with a faint bluish cast. The name comes from the color of the gemstone emerald.
> 
> _So, back to the M rated stuff. I've been toying with the idea of a prayer kink fic for awhile and felt inspired to actually flesh something out of random notes._
> 
> _Enjoy._

Castiel stills when he hears a prayer directed at him. A prayer from Dean. It's not unusual for Dean to pray to him, but the tone is different. Different enough to get his immediate attention and put him on alert.

" _Cas?_ " Dean's voice is soft, almost breathy. Is Dean running from something? Panicked and hiding? He can't tell and he tenses up, waiting.

Castiel cocks his head a little, listening intently, Hannah's voice no longer priority and just a low drone in the background. If he wasn't in the middle of an important meeting, he'd be at Dean's side in a blink. He hopes Dean isn't in mortal peril.

He continues listening intently, hoping Dean will continue, set his mind at ease. The angels would understand if he had to leave.

" _Cas_..."

Dean voice isn't as soft that time, the vowel of his name drawn out a little, ending in a soft, subtle hiss that usually means Dean's head is tilting back. Castiel's eyes narrow when he finally recognizes that tone.

Dean is—

A long breathy moan filters through his mind and he shifts in his seat, his body reacting without his permission to the sound. He knows that sound and he's involuntarily inundated with thoughts of Dean. Images of Dean. Images of what Dean is probably doing to make those sounds.

" _Oh, fuck, Cas._ "

Castiel closes his eyes, trying not to react. He can feel a few of his brothers and sisters attention shift to him for a moment and he makes the effort to sit still, remain calm and quiet. He inclines his head as an indicator to move on and thankfully, everyone's attention leaves him.

Then he gets a startlingly clear mental picture of Dean.

Alone, in a motel room.

The lights are on— all of them. Dean is splayed out on the motel's double bed, the lines of him stark and gorgeous against the emerald covers. Dean's jeans are undone and bunched hastily down to his knees, booted feet hanging off the edge of the bed. The urgency of Dean not even taking his boots off has desire blooming warm and sharp.

He swallows heavily when he can clearly make out what Dean is doing. Hips moving just a little, trying to be still but Castiel knows how pleasure makes it hard for Dean to be still. Dean is a vision; cock in hand, head tilted back, Adam's apple bobbing as he teases at himself with a loose fist.

Castiel can see every detail as if he were right there. Dean starts to slide a slick-shiny fist up, the flushed head slick and dark, shaft shiny with a mix of Dean's preferred lube and pre-come. He licks his lips, wishing he could be there. Kneeling before Dean, hands worshipping every bared inch of freckled skin, mouth pressed to the hard heat of him, gathering the clear little bead pearling at the tip with a flick of his tongue.

He can't though.

With an effort, he returns his attention to his present surroundings. Hannah glancing at him briefly, a light furrow between her brows that's part concern for his wandering attention and irritation at the interruption, before addressing the room at large.

It's like Dean can sense it, knows he's not paying attention to him any longer. Dean moans louder, high and needy, his hand speeding up just a little as he moans again, thighs spreading out as far as his jeans will let him.

" _Castiel_ ," Dean breaths out, head lolling to the side and giving Castiel a lovely glimpse of his flushed neck, pulse fluttering wildly. It's a low blow, moaning his proper name like that, one Dean knows Castiel finds hard to ignore. He nearly groans with the urge to kiss, nip and lick the heated skin.

Castiel fidgets, trying not to be tempted when Dean's other hand slides down, touch teasingly slow and feather-light, just how Dean likes. He nearly breaks with a panted out breath when Dean slides a finger down and back, pressing just so and moaning loudly. Both in prayer and vocally into the room.

 

 

 

"Fuck," Dean pants moving his hand to a better angle, teasing a little as he just circles with a light touch.

He can feel Cas watching; it's like a warm tickling along his skin. He groans softly, giving a few tugs before letting go. It takes some effort, but the tease will be worth it.

"Should I get comfortable?" he asks aloud, keeping the prayer lines open so Cas can hear him, hands lazily rubbing up his stomach to his chest to tease at his nipples for a moment. He should probably leave Cas be, dude's important and all that, but it's been two damn weeks since he's seen Cas. _Three_ weeks since they've had a chance to do anything beyond a chaste kiss or a pat on the shoulder since they haven't had a moment alone.

He's a little desperate here.

Sam going off on a research kick at the closest library left him too good a chance to pass up. He opens one eye but there's no Cas. No woosh of Angel Express dropping off a horny Cas ready to pounce and rock his world.

Oh well. He can work with Cas just wanting to listen.

Dean kicks off his boots, glad he loosened the laces, and shimmies out of his pants and boxer-briefs. He leans over and grabs the lube, settling back into the mattress with an eager little wiggle of his hips and shoulders. He figures he'll just continue but keep the lines open, let Cas have a little fun too. It's not often he's all that vocal when jerking off, too many years in close quarters was good practice for learning how to keep quiet, but he can try. For Cas.

He spares a moment to miss his Aneros Vice but mentally shrugs and palms the lube for a moment so it can warm up. Cas runs hot so the lube is never cold when Cas is handling things. He sighs softly, missing Cas with a sharp pang, and gets back into prayer mode.

"Got your ears on, Cas?" He pauses for a moment and smiles a little when he can tell that Cas is indeed listening. It's kind of a weird sensation after so many years of not expecting an answer the few times he prayed.

He likes this much better.

He lets his knees drop towards the bed and wriggles until he's in a better position. "You listening, Cas?" he asks, voice already gone a little breathy with anticipation, hitching softly with each tease of his fingers.

Shit, it's been too long.

 

 

 

Castiel twitches in his seat, the feeling of Dean's arousal practically slamming into him when Dean continues, somehow able to deliberately direct it right at him, the moan echoing in his prayers. There's longing there, sharp and clear, Dean missing him, and he nearly flies to him. A side-long glance from Eremiel has him staying put. Dean isn't in danger and he can't use sex as an excuse.

He tries to pay attention to his current surroundings but Dean's words are coming easier now, quicker as Dean's inhibitions fall by the wayside with his impending orgasm. As Dean continues to pleasure himself there are far more groans and gasps, moans and grunts than actual words. The sounds of Dean's pleasure mix with the slick sounds of movement, the soft rustle of blankets and squeak of the bed, the visual flickering behind his closed eyelids testing his resolve.

Castiel is enraptured, caught in the image of Dean biting his full bottom lip on the urge to moan, exhaling soft and shaky as Dean lets it go and the moan drifts across his consciousness in a long, drawn-out breath that has his fingertips whiting as he digs his fingers into his knees.

" _Cas_."

" _So good—_ fuck. _Cas_."

Castiel's body tenses with ingrained habit the moment he realizes Dean is moments away from orgasm, his chest hitching, neck flushed, head tilted back into the pillow, both hands moving in an erratic tandem that has Dean rocking and writhing on the bed, words almost constant now that he's lost to pleasure.

The whispered ' _miss you, Cas, wish you were here_ ' nearly has him breaking, flying down to Dean in a blink. He longs to be right there, kiss the moans from Dean's mouth, lick in and taste every pleasured exhale and stuttered hiccuped groan.

He's trembling, face and neck hot, hands white knuckled in his lap as he watches Dean's body tense one final time before he's coming, moans and " _CasCas_ ohfuck _Cas_ " the only thing he hears. He relaxes in his chair as Dean does the same, relaxing into the rucked up emerald blanket with a long, sated sigh.

He hears Dean's pleasure slurred " _Was it good for you?_ " and smiles. He manages to compose himself and waits as patiently as he can for the most opportune time to leave.


End file.
